A loud rumbling sounded in the distance, echoing between the valleys. “Storm’s comin’ in quick.” Hank set down a rake in the pile of tools next to the porch and pulled off worn leather gloves.
“Yeah, bet it will be pouring in about an hour. Let’s go ahead and call it a day,” Jack called out to the others. Like ants, they all scurried to store tools in the shed, tap paint lids into place, and roll up tarps before the stormy weather arrived.
With her friends gathered around their vehicles starting on goodbyes, Livy choked with emotion. “Guys, I can’t tell you how much your help means to me. I can’t believe you’ve given up three Saturdays in a row just to be here.” Jack’s arm draped over her shoulder and squeezed.
“My bowling game’s probably suffered.” Greg’s jeer was defended by a swift elbow jab from Meredith and arguments from everyone else. What a crew they all were. Sarcastic, funny, and so incredibly genuine and caring. Livy had never known such true friends.
An angry crack from the sky sent everyone scattering to their cars. One by one, they pulled off the grassy side yard and onto the driveway, christening the new gravel, and drove off toward the darkest of the looming clouds.
“Let’s close up the house and go get some dinner. I’ve got some leftover chili at my house.” Jack wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close. “You can ride out the storm at my place, if you want.”
Those blue eyes of his danced with mischief. “Don’t flirt—I can’t take that look.” Livy lifted to her tiptoes and waited for her lips to find his. “But I can’t. I promised Aunt Bea I’d play cards with her tonight. Mr. Smith went to a family wedding over in Johnson City today so she’s on until 8:30.” Fat raindrops tore them apart and sent them running for shelter in Jack’s truck. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to navigate the slippery winding roads to the cabin.
“How sweet you are with my aunt only makes me like you more.” Jack reached for her hand over the center console. “Care for a third player? Maybe I can talk Aunt Bea into rustling us up some goodies from the kitchen, too. It can be like an old-fashioned storm party.”
Livy shook her head at his persistence. “How can I say no to you?” No matter that she didn’t want to. The storm dumped a deluge of rain on them, and Jack concentrated on delivering them safely to the inn. One day she’d know these roads like the back of her hand like Jack did. It was getting easier and easier to imagine life in Laurel Cove turning into a lifetime. She’d stopped holding her breath waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the drama really had subsided.
White hot lightning struck to Livy’s right with a deafening crack. Jack steered the truck hard to the left, missing a fallen tree by inches. Her body jerked back to the right, smashing against the truck door as Jack veered to regain placement in the lane. He let out a long whistle. “That was close.”
Maybe someone was trying to tell her not to count her chickens quite yet.
***
The next evening, the sweet scent of blooming jasmine blew across Jack’s back porch and cascaded over Livy through a warm breeze. This porch had become her favorite spot to enjoy dinner. Perfect view over the mountains, now carpeted fully in lush greenery as spring neared completion. Jack stepped from the house and set down a basket of garlic bread. The company wasn’t bad either.
His lips were soft on her cheek before he took a seat. “You might have beaten me at cards last night, but no one can rival my pasta skills.”
“No argument here.” As Livy cut her spaghetti, she continued with a planned announcement. “So, I think I’m about ready to move into the cottage.”
“Finally! I was getting pretty tired of driving all the way to the inn to pick you up all the time.” He winked playfully, as if he knew nothing of the socked foot rubbing her leg under the table. He’d been extra flirty all evening. But she had no complaints.
His reward was a sarcastic smirk. “That means I’ll need to head home soon to Raleigh to grab the furniture and dishes and other things my mom is storing for me. Would you like to tag along?”
His fork of twirled pasta paused halfway from his plate to his mouth. “That sounds amazing. I’d love to meet your mom and see the farm. I’ve also got a supplier in Raleigh I’ve been meaning to go see, so maybe I can work that in while I’m there.” He set his full fork back on the plate and drummed his fingers on the patio table. “Jasper owes me some favors, so I bet I can manage a Friday off if you’d like to make it a long weekend. How about next week?”
The sooner the better. “Perfect! I’ve got some other news, too.” Livy took a slow sip of her wine.
“Well? Let’s have it, Miss Chatty.” Jack sat back in the chair, hands behind his head, and laughed. He was so distractingly handsome when such a playful mood mixed with those rugged good looks. His skin was tanned to a caramel hue from a lot of time in the warmer weather. And the five o’clock shadow he was sporting today added to the rugged arm muscles visible under his rolled sleeves. Whew. Sure was warm this evening.
One more sip allowed her to refocus. “I drove up to Weaverville today to get a few smocks. The coveralls bit the dust last week when I snagged the back pocket on part of the fence out back.”
“Very I Love Lucy of you.”
“Oh, hush.” She tossed her napkin at him. “Anyway, out of the blue, Marge asked if I’d be interested in hanging up some of my pieces in the gallery!” Livy had painted a few times a week since finishing that piece for Jack. Marge had asked to see some and was always complimentary, but her offer to feature Livy’s canvases in the gallery came as a welcomed surprise.
Jack’s hands flew out from behind his head with excitement. “Honey, that’s fantastic!” He leaned across the table, standing enough to reach her lips for a congratulatory kiss. He’d encouraged her painting so many times already, but it never lost its impact on her. She let her hand rest on his cheek and whispered, “Thank you,” before he returned to his seat.
Jack motioned with his hands as if outlining a sign. “I can see it now, One of a Kind Paintings by Local Renowned Artist Olivia Johnson. And I’ve got a custom one. I feel so special.” He nodded toward the painting hanging near the fireplace inside.
“Jack, you’re crazy.” Her body shook with laughter. “Let’s not get carried away. But I am excited, and thank you for thinking it’s a big deal. Marge and I also talked about me maybe coming to do a class once a week. Which is great, because I could use a little extra money.”
Jack scooted his chair around the table until their knees touched. “Well, you’re on a roll.” He nuzzled her neck, his hot breath sending chills down her arm. “I bet you could teach me a thing or two.”
“What’s gotten in to you, Jack Bowdon?” Livy squirmed as his large hand rubbed the small of her back. “Greg and Mer are going to wonder where we are if we don’t get moving.” They were scheduled to meet their friends for drinks in a bit.
His soft lips explored the tender spot behind her ear. His whispers stole her breath. “Well, you show up here in this black silky shirt that you know I love, telling me you’re taking me home to meet your mother, being the brilliant artist you are, and flashing those irresistible eyes at me. It’s all your fault, really.” It was her turn to take on the role of intimacy police. They were a good team, and she knew when their wedding night came, it would be worth the wait.
“Okay, Casanova, I’ll take the blame. You go change that shirt that you’ve spilled spaghetti sauce on and I’ll rinse these dishes.” She pushed away Jack’s hands and carried their plates over to the sink as he seemed to notice the spot of sauce for the first time.
Jack’s steps followed and Livy started to rinse the dishes and place them in the dishwasher. “I guess you’re right, Livy. We’d hate to be late.” When she turned around, Jack had indeed taken his shirt off—and stood right in front of her. She gasped, tingling as she took in her first look at his bare chest, fit and muscular. Her hands had wandered up his shirt a time or two when they’d made out over the last few m
onths, but this was a first. Is this man trying to kill me? Her restraint might not be enough for the both of them tonight if he kept this up.
He had that telltale twinkle in his eyes as he took another step closer. She leaned against the edge of the sink, nowhere else to go. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Uh, no.” Play it cool. But her heart raced, and knees went weak. Just when she thought Jack couldn’t surprise her anymore, he did something like this and sent her reeling. “I don’t know how you expect me to keep us on time when you’re throwing yourself at me.”
He inched closer still, eyes fixed on hers. “I texted Greg a minute ago and told him we’d have to reschedule, that something had come up.”
Livy put a hand up to block him, but his bare skin only sent shivers running down her spine. “Any other excuses?” She had none. Her fingers explored tight muscles. Suddenly weightless in his arms, he lifted her to the counter. His chest met the smooth fabric of her shirt, and he kissed her, romantic and passionate and unexpected.
Lightheaded, Livy pulled away from his mouth and let him kiss her neck so she could catch her breath. Her stomach rolled, the ceiling spinning above her. Jack found her collarbone, wrapping both arms around her waist.
Something was wrong. “Jack…”
***
“Jack…” Livy’s voice trembled.
Hearing her whisper his name only encouraged Jack as his mouth explored the curve of her neck. But the third time she delivered his name, something made him pause and look up at her face.
She’d gone pale. Beads of perspiration formed along her forehead. Before he could ask her what was wrong, she bent over the sink next to her and vomited. Instinctively, Jack pulled her hair to one side so it stayed out of the way, and steadied her with an arm around her waist. When the first wave passed and she sat up, he wiped her face and helped her to his bathroom, the closest one to the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry.” Livy moaned through obvious pain, doubled over. The nausea had come on so strong and quick. “Oh, my shirt.” It hadn’t survived the incident unscathed.
Bless her heart. Seeing her like this, unable to make it better, was torture. “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.” He stroked her damp hair a moment before going to his dresser for a clean T-shirt. He handed it to her and she began unbuttoning her shirt, seemingly unaware that she had an audience. He turned to give her a moment of privacy.
Moments later, another wave of nausea hit her, and she leaned over the toilet. Jack held her hair back again, his own stomach sinking with regret that there was nothing else he could do.
When it seemed to have subsided for a while, Jack offered her mouthwash and helped her into his bed. She was asleep almost immediately. What if she needed him again? He changed into some comfortable sweats, grabbed a quilt from the living room, and camped out in the reading chair in his room by the window—feet propped up on the small side table that held a few magazines and his Bible. Jack picked it up.
He often turned to a random page and read whatever passage his eyes fell upon, finding that the scripture would have something to say to him about his life at the time. Tonight, by the blue light of the full moon shining in through the window, he turned to the book of 1 Peter, chapter five. When he got to verse ten, he stopped and reread it several times.
And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.
Jack glanced at Livy again, peaceful and still now, then out the window to the glorious view of the mountains silver-tipped from the bright moon. He’d indeed suffered during and after his divorce. He’d doubted that he was strong enough to love another woman. But here he sat, just a few months after meeting Livy—restored as a man who needed and wanted to love a woman the way God intended. Although having a companion was the biggest answer to his prayer and the most noticeable change in his life, his painstaking hardships with Claire had strengthened him, like iron forged in the fire.
Now here he sat in the home he’d built for a wife but had so far lived in alone. With Livy in his bed for the first time, though under unexpected circumstances, it was clear their relationship was much deeper than he and Claire ever managed. Just in this one evening, he had enjoyed Livy’s casual company, been attracted to her beyond belief, and had been called into duty to tend to her needs. He had no doubt that if the situation were reversed, Livy would do the same for him in a heartbeat.
One minute, Jack was in the middle of a prayer, and the next, the sound of running water woke him. The shower. Rubbing his neck, stiff from sleeping in the chair all night, Jack opened his eyes. The covers were pushed back on his bed. Livy had made it through the night without getting sick again.
To give her time to finish up, he went to the kitchen to boil water for tea. A few minutes later, Livy came out in her jeans and his T-shirt, hair wet and framing her face. She had no makeup on and, though still a little pale, she had never looked more beautiful.
He welcomed her into his arms. “How are you feeling?”
“A little weak, but pretty normal otherwise. I’m so sorry about all of this. I guess I ate something earlier in the day that was bad.” She accepted the mug he offered her.
He’d trade places with her if he could. “Don’t worry about me. I felt terrible for you. At least we’ll have a funny story to tell one day,” he said, trying to make her feel better.
“One day.” She managed a sideways smile as she walked toward the windows. She seemed smaller next to him when he joined her. “And thanks for the shirt. I bet that wasn’t what you pictured undressing me would be like.” She gave him a little joking jab with her elbow. “Seriously, though, thank you for taking care of me, Jack. You’re wonderful.”
Good to see her sense of humor was back. He returned to the kitchen and made her a piece of dry toast to be safe. “I know we were planning to go kayaking today, but would you like to spend a lazy Saturday here instead?”
“I don’t think I can refuse that. And, by the way, you are too adorable in those plaid pajama pants.” Though her eyes revealed how worn-out she was, her gentle squeeze around his waist was playful. “I sure love you.”
“I love you too, honey.” He kissed her forehead. Having her close was just right. There was no other word for it.
They finished the morning on the porch, watching the mist over the mountain peaks evaporate as the sun rose in the sky. Later, they went for a stroll on a trail through the woods surrounding the house—one of Livy’s favorite things for them to do together, she often said—and then spent the rest of the day on the couch watching old movies.
Where the night before had been one of the most passionate nights they’d almost had, the time since had been the most intimate. If this was what their future together might be like, it would be nothing short of wonderful.
CHAPTER
Nineteen
T hen, out of the trees, came the big bear with a furious roar and scared away the fire breathing dragon!” Jack’s wild hands cast long shadows across the wall, captivating even Livy.
“No, Jack! A brave knight saves the princess, not a bear!” Beth, Jen and Owen’s youngest, fell onto the floor in a fit of giggles.
Jack and Livy were watching Beth and Noah that evening while Jen had parent meetings at the school and Owen was on his way back from a conference.
Livy sat on the couch with Noah tucked under her arm, his hand covering his mouth to hide laughter. “It’s getting late, you two. Your mom will be home soon. Time for bed.”
“Aw, man,” Beth protested.
Noah wriggled down from the couch and reached for his sister’s hand. “It’s okay, Sissy. I’ll help you get your teeth brushed.”
Jack flopped down next to Livy. “Wow. I’ve never seen Noah be so agreeable about bedtime. I think he’s showing off for you.”
“Well, maybe so, but both those kids are pretty great.” Livy let her head fall again
st Jack’s shoulder.
“Jack!” Beth’s cry rang from down the hall. “Noah pushed me!”
Jack rolled his eyes and shook his fists in the air dramatically. “Proven wrong again!” Livy laughed for the countless time that night. He slowly pushed himself up from the couch and started for the hallway. “I’m coming back there and expect to see pajamas on.”
A contented sigh escaped Livy. Jack was so natural with the kids. Sure, he’d known them since they were born, but not every man had such instincts. He’d make a wonderful father someday. How easy to imagine a life with Jack and kids and a home—a life. Her heart skipped at the thought. Believing in such happiness wasn’t without its risks, but a night like tonight sure encouraged it. She busied herself by moving to clean the kitchen from supper.
“Victory!” Jack whispered when he came into the kitchen a few minutes later.
Man, he was good. “Already asleep?”
He bounced around the kitchen on light feet in a victory dance, ending by swooping her up in his arms. “Almost. And it only took one book.” Following his lead, they moved through the kitchen, past the dining table, and into the living room. Jack had turned out most of the lights during his story about bears and dragons. The dim light that remained from a table lamp cast a warm glow across his already handsome face. Their pace slowed, he pulled her in, and they swayed to music that didn’t play.
“You’re beautiful.” Jack stared into her eyes. His chest was warm against her hand. “And you’re going to make a great mother someday.”
He thinks about it, too. Heat rose in her cheeks. All the words she wanted to say caught in her throat. If she told him that she thought about such a full future with him, would it scare him? Would it tempt the riskiness of hoping? She offered him a sheepish shrug of her shoulders. The thought of being a mother thrilled her, especially if he was the father.
Someplace Familiar (Laurel Cove Romance Book 1) Page 18
